


Medusa

by PatPrecieux



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 16:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20509859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatPrecieux/pseuds/PatPrecieux
Summary: At a crime scene Sherlock crosses a verbal line and John returns the "favour".





	Medusa

**Author's Note:**

> It's said "sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me". Whoever said that needs a reality check.

John had shot the serial killer cabbie quite dead that first night and, in his own words, had slept very well afterwards indeed. Just like that Sherlock went from having a new flatmate and colleague to having a loyal friend. 

Now understand, John had been a soldier and still had the occasional bad day and Sherlock being Sherlock was still prone to mood swings and strops. Overall however the "pirate ship" Baker Street which sailed in Sherlock's Mind Palace remained on calm seas until danger sent a wave crashing into the rigging threatening to capsize the two man crew and throwing them into each other's arms and hearts.

They continued to solve cases, annoy the Yarders and confound and delight Hudders. The only difference now being a decided lack of need for a second bedroom. Then came the afternoon when fate conspired to cause a John Watson bad day and a Sherlock Holmes strop to meet head on and send the good ship Baker Street aground on a rocky shoal. 

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

The victim sitting dead on a bench in the middle of Hyde Park was well dressed and carried a medical bag identifying him as Edward Wilberforth a respected, according to Lestrade, local veterinary surgeon. There were no obvious signs of trauma or a confrontation of any sort. It was unseasonably warm for September and all present we're anxious for a quick resolution.

"Got anything for us Sherlock?", Greg asked taking a large gulp of cold coffee.

"Obviously, Godot. Clearly the man was called here under a false pretense of examining an injured horse as you see the hoof prints all around and the horsehair on his pants. If any of you had half a brain you would see that the man's shirt is slightly askew mid abdomen and there is a minute puncture wound. Ergo the man was ambushed by the horse's rider and injected with a fatal dose of what I judge to be ketamine, a powerful horse tranquilizer lethal to humans in large doses. I suggest you research the man's appointments for the day and apprehend the murderer IF that isn't beyond your meager abilities. Come along John.", he sniffed haughtily, nose in the air.

John, who had been crouched by the body making a preliminary examination, stood pulling the latex gloves off his hands. "Hold on a minute Sherlock, let's look at this another way. True he's a veterinary surgeon surrounded by hoof prints and covered in horsehair but we're on a public bridleway 'Lock. Chances are all of us have some of that hair on us, even you. As for the puncture, I agree it's an injection but I can see from this man's fingers that he regularly checks his blood sugar levels. My guess is he was diabetic and I'm thinking he may have injected himself with insulin somewhere nearby unwisely discarding the syringe in the closest bin. That's a good indication he was feeling terribly unwell otherwise we would have found it in his bag. Greg you might want to have a look round those over there. Also it makes sense that he would have had a single use dose and not a vial of insulin with him considering the heat. Not saying your ketamine theory isn't possible but this alternative ought to be considered don't you think?" It must be said here that at this point John was speaking calmly with a half smile. That was why what followed was so unexpected.

Sherlock whirled on tip toe like a dancer preparing to leap into the air and growled, "Thank you John for your unsolicited opinion. Allow me to offer one of my own. 'Better to remain silent and thought a fool, than to speak out and remove all doubt'. I suggest you take it to heart, Doctor. Now must I march over and drag you from this abyss of boredom?" 

As he advanced towards John he paid no attention to Lestrade and his team who were all staring at him like he WAS the high functioning sociopath he sometimes proudly claimed to be. John on the other hand had straightened, squared his shoulders and plastered a rather frightening sneer on his lips.

"Throwing out platitudes of literary wisdom are we? Well allow me to reply in kind quoting one of my favourite poets:

'And here you come with a shield for a heart and a sword for a tongue.'

Make of THAT what you will Mister Holmes. Greg let's meet up for drinks at the Dragon's Lair after you're finished here, my shout. Also, despite my opinions seldom being valued or valid, and at the risk of insulting the World's Only Consulting Detective, I strongly urge you to check further into my theory."

John basically quick marched towards the nearest park exit leaving behind a gobsmacked police crew and a frankly near catatonic Sherlock.

🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎

When Greg entered the Dragon's Lair, a far more posh venue than his usual local, he was surprised to find John nursing a small orange juice.

"Didn't start without me?"

"Nah, too damned mad to drink without food in me. Up for a late tea?"

"A copper can always eat. How about two ploughman's and several tall pints? I'll order you pay. Coppers never forget offers of free drinks either."

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

They had started their second pint and tucked into their food when Greg grinned. "Thought you'd like to know you were spot on in every way. Turns out his wife was expecting him home as he hadn't eaten on schedule. Sadly his blood sugar went wonky and what insulin he had with him wasn't enough. I'm guessing people around him thought he was having a brief kip and the poor sod just slipped away. Pitiful that, but got to say you put his nibs in his place and I made sure he knew you were right before I turned him loose from the investigation. What the bloody hell got into him and where did you pull that quote out from?"

"My arse really, but it IS from a poet I like. Seemed to fit the moment."

"Well it shocked the shite out of Sherlock, he was stunned."

"I don't usually get into verbal sparring with him, it's a waste of breath most times. But that tantrum today pushed my buttons and there's an added bonus. The git deletes most things the rest of us enjoy but he keeps all those posh Oxford, Cambridge, elitist upper class quotations to lord it over all of us who aren't Sherlock Holmes. That poetry is modern. He's going to need to know more about it and it's going to drive him spare hunting it down."

"You can be an evil man John Watson. Best keep on your good side. Another pint?"

🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺

Sherlock had spent DAYS, well maybe hours- how damn long had John been gone anyway- trying to find the obscure poem John had quoted. Just as he was about to convince himself John had made it up, as if the man had enough brains to be that imaginative, his google search finally yielded the sought for results. It was a poem entitled "Medusa".

He settled in his chair a cup of tea untouched at his elbow and began to scan the work. What the fuck did his relationship with John have to do with a mythological woman with snakes for hair? As he read selected parts it became all too clear.

" A suspicion, a doubt, a jealousy grew in my mind, which turned the hairs on my head to filthy snakes  
as though my thoughts hissed and spat on my scalp.

My...breath soured, stank in the grey bags of my lungs. I'm foul mouthed now, foul tongued, yellow fanged.  
There are bullet tears in my eyes. Are you terrified?

Be terrified. It's you I love, perfect man, Greek God, my own;  
but I know you'll go, betray me, stray from home. So better be for me if you were stone."

Sherlock couldn't swallow around the lump in his throat and didn't even try to stop the flow of tears down his cheeks. Here was their life in words on a page right before him. He had demeaned, insulted, and dismissed John like he was a pet on a leash. A mindless creature who only existed on the whims of the man who demanded his blind devotion. John had loved him into becoming a good man and in one sanctimonious pronouncement he had truly turned himself back to stone. Then his eyes fell on the last stanza:

"And here you come with a shield for a heart and a sword for a tongue  
...Wasn't I beautiful...? Look at me now."

🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭

John wasn't even fully in the door before Sherlock was on him pressing close. "Sherlock no! I'm still..."

"I'm looking at you now John. Really looking through eyes that couldn't be more sorry than they already are- for everything. And you ARE beautiful, more beautiful inside and out than anyone I have ever known. Call me what you like- fool, idiot, ungrateful cur, horrid excuse for a man. I deserve them all. And I'll never insult you like that ever again."

"Brat comes to mind actually, and yes you will but I love you as you are, so it's to be expected, ONCE in awhile. As for the rest, no one gets to call the man I adore those names not even me. So, you found the poem did ya? What no fancy free verse for me in retort?"

"No, just a bit of Shakespeare, 'How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child!' "

"Not your Daddy, and I thought you didn't like to be called a child."

"I don't but I behaved like one, and in a way I AM the child that lives with you. It's a wonder you restrain yourself from punishing me, John."

Sighing John shook his head. "In all honesty I'm too damn knackered to even put forth the effort. But don't think, young man, that I'm not holding the idea of spanking you in reserve for when I might need it later. Could be interesting."

"Yes, John. In the meantime would you be satisfied with a cup of tea and a shower?"

"The tea and shower sound brilliant but I'll be wanting a proper apology and, for Hudders sake, it's NOT the kind that should be delivered in our sitting room."

Wiggling his eyebrows up into his curls Sherlock purred, "Which room would you suggest Captain?"

"Deduce it, genius."

"Done and done, sir. And just to prove I have listened and learned today here's a parting proverb to carry you to the shower:

'A blow with a word strikes deeper than a blow with a sword.'." He smirked as he turned towards the kitchen.

Stepping up behind him John delivered a stinging swat to the plush bum swaying ahead of him. Sherlock squawked as John giggled, "But this works too. Tea with chocolate biscuits and you in our bed in ten minutes. Don't make me wait. Wouldn't want to wake those snakes slithering around my head again."

With that he kissed Sherlock deeply and headed off to the shower with plans to force Sherlock to watch a Doctor Who marathon with him later that night. He had had more than enough high brow proverbs and poetry to last him for the next week.

🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

**Author's Note:**

> * Multiple references to old English Proverbs.
> 
> ** Medusa is from "The World's Wife" a collection of poems by Carol Ann Duffy published in 1999.
> 
> *** The Shakespeare quote comes from Act 1, Scene 4 of King Lear.
> 
> Here's hoping that September finds all of you in fine fettle and to all Bahamians and my fellow Americans in harms way from Hurricane Dorian please stay safe. All of us are thinking of you.
> 
> Kudos and comments are my favorite literary treats. Thanks for reading.   
❤️❤️❤️❤️ Pat


End file.
